


Sun-Kissed

by HoldenGrey



Category: Apollo - Fandom, ApolloxHyacinthus, Greek Mythology, Hyacinth - Fandom, Hyacinthus - Fandom, Myth fic, sunflower - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Greek myth - Freeform, M/M, Mytgology, Retelling, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldenGrey/pseuds/HoldenGrey
Summary: This is a vignette from what, I hope, will be a substantially larger work. In this scene, it is the first time Apollo and Hyacinth are alone. Realizing this, they take full advantage or of this momentary opportunity.
Relationships: Apollo x Hyacinthus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Sun-Kissed

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone. 
> 
> I have decided, in the abundance of free time I now have due to the COVID-19 pandemic, to try my hand at retelling some of my favorite Greek myths. The story of Apollo and Hyacinth is my personal favorite, and so I thought it the only choice for a first try. 
> 
> Note: I have done a lot of writing in my time, although it has mostly been academic in nature. Other than a small collection of poems and a novella I wrote 10 years ago, I have never really attempted any substantial prose. I’m writing this story for myself, really, but thought others may enjoy. So, I’ve decided to put a small vignette on here to test the waters and see if anyone would read it. 
> 
> Please feel free to comment or respond in any other way! 
> 
> Enjoy!

.....

As he saw Apollo’s face come nearer and nearer, the intensity in his star-bright eyes became all too much; nearly human, but not quite. Just as Hyacinth felt the lightest brush of the god’s lips against his, the trace of fingertips on his bare waist, his body pulsed with warmth. It was so much so fast. He had never felt anything like this. There could never be anything like this. Against the heat, against the electrifying press of Apollo’s soft, oh-so-soft lips, Hyacinth squeezed his eyes shut.

In all his years, he must have closed his eyes tens of millions of times. Each time he had done it, it had always been dark. Just as sure as the night came after the day, so, too, did the dark when he closed his lids. But this time... this time? Well, it sure started out that way. But then, a dot. Like the flickering flame of the start of the palace hearthfire, the dot was small and sweet. With each passing instant, that little flame grew and grew and grew until it was no longer a fire. His entire vision filled with a warm, radiant glow. He felt every inch of his insides blaze until it was brighter inside than outside. 

Whether from the sheer excitement of the moment or from the small sun he had glowing within him, Hyacinth could feel beads of sweat begin to form at his hairline, a very human imitation (simulacrum?) of the laurel crown which was opposite it. Almost as if he knew, Apollo broke the kiss, and the space between them grew from nothing to a few inches. It was incredible how being just a little farther apart had changed so much. 

What only moments prior had been a surging, internal incandescence now seemed so cold, so dull. The lack, the emptiness, the… internal privation ached. As a prince, Hyacinth had never known poverty, had wanted for nothing. Now, suddenly, with Apollo’s sweet embrace so close yet so unbearably distant, he felt he knew what it meant to be without. He felt absence. 

“Oh, great gods…” It escaped Hyacinth’s lips on an exhale, as quiet as a prayer. 

“Yes?” Apollo smirked, the corner of his mouth raising up to match the inflection of his question.

Laughter bubbled up from Hyacinth’s belly and spilled out his lips, throwing his head back to the skies. That the man in front of him, the god, rather, had thought what Hyacinth had said was an address and not an expression of his frayed nerves, was, well... all together too fitting for what such a god should be. What good were golden curls, a shining aura, and a smile that could blind if they weren’t coupled with the confidence and self-assurance to match? 

“I hadn’t meant you, although perhaps I should have.” Hyacinth tried to be coy, for surely the god had known the effect he had on him.

....


End file.
